Finders Keepers
by Arwen Thandiel
Summary: Cap discovers a secret and decides to take one back for the team. Complete for now unless continuation requested
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:** I can leave this as a one shot, or if there is enough interest, I can roll this out into a multi-chapter CapsiCoul pairing. Place your votes in the reviews. I've rated this M for now because that's where I'd go with it if people want a pairing. Lemme know what you think!

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Finders Keepers

Steve had no idea how long he'd been standing there; standing and staring. There were few things he hated in the world more than Hydra and their evil plans, and lies were one of them. Steve Rogers, the First Avenger, Captain America hated, _HATED_ being lied to. Nothing shook him harder than finding out those people he placed his trust in where not worthy of that trust.

Few knew, but one of the only reasons Steve had agreed to the whole Avengers Initiative fiasco was the man who was to be at the head of that particular super-ship and it sure as hell wasn't _Nick Fury_. Hate erupted in Steve's veins once more at the mere mention of _that_ man's name. Stark had called it. Fury was _the_ Spy, his secrets had secrets and there, in that very room was a secret that Steve couldn't make peace with. This was worse than "Plan B" and Hydra weapons powered by the Tesseract.

This was worse than the fake room he woke up in with that stupid baseball game broadcast; a baseball game that he'd _been_ to before he hit the ice. Of all the lies told, Steve was unsure which was worse: obvious lies or lies that no one ever knew were there. To live in ignorance of someone else's manipulation or to live with the constant grating of knowing the false truth but not the real one?

Steve shifted from foot to foot, staring at this secret of Fury's. What should he do? Tell someone? Steve was sure Fury would fabricate some bullshit reason for this excuse just like he had with Plan B. Defense he said. Or the fake room. We didn't want to startle you he said. LIAR.

Control. It's always about control and if there was one thing Steve always railed against, it was being controlled by men who didn't deserve that power. Right now, Fury was one of those men and Steve was determined to ruin this game…but how to do it? There was nothing to be gained by causing damage to innocent bystanders. Nothing to be gained by cutting legs out from under the Avengers Initiative. They were on shaky ground as it was. So, how to proceed?

Why not, just take the power back?

No scenes, no ranting, no unveiling of the ruse.

Just walk out and take the power back.

Perfect.

Decided, Steve moved forward toward the pale man under pale sheets bathed in pale, florescent light. He really was a beautiful man in his own way. Steve could clearly recall the animated face, flush with awe and embarrassment. It was a crime that the man was brought so low. He didn't deserve this. He didn't deserve to be tucked away in some remote hospital room, hooked to machines that beeped dispassionately in the otherwise silent tomb.

Brain dead. That's what the chart notes amounted to. Severe puncture, laceration to the lung and surrounding tissue. Body responding to healing but the brain continues to show minimal activity. Prognosis: Poor. Patient likelihood of regaining consciousness: negligible. Recommendation: Terminate life support after one more week of failure to make progress.

_Disgusting_

They would just let him die. After the risk he took, the bravery he showed, the honor. Phil Coulson deserved a warrior's death, not this wasting away. Steve took the last step forward. Pressed against the side of the bed, he stared into Phil's peaceful face and mused at the deception of that peacefulness. Though he'd only known Phil for a few short days, and had no more than minimal interaction, Steve was certain that despite the calm exterior, Coulson must be positively screaming inside. He could not imagine this powerful, dynamic man slipping away to his death.

It would not be so. Steve had read that sometimes coma patients responded well to repeated exposure of familiar things. Well, nothing was more familiar to this man than Captain America. The super soldier took a deep breath and prepared to carry out his decision. It was likely he would meet resistance but he seriously doubted anyone would try to physically stop him from completing his mission. And really, all he needed to do was get to a place where he could contact Stark and everything would go his way from there.

The man may be a giant pain in the ass but he had a surprising commitment to fairness and justice. Stark was going to lose his shit when he found out Coulson hadn't died from the wounds inflicted by Loki. Hell, he'd probably blow something up when he found out the Agent had been kept in a dingy, dark hospital room (cell) in order to keep Fury's secret and "bring the team together."

Steve reached out. No going back now. One by one, he detached the sensors, removed the IV's and switched off the alarm. Were he a less experienced soldier, he would have shied away from removing the catheter. Once Phil was completely disconnected, Steve scooped the smaller man up in his arms and made his way to the door.

As expected, security was there, waiting for him.

"Cap, we can't let you do this."

The unknown agent's voice was low, almost begging him not to continue.

"I will not let him die in some forgotten hole. He saved us…He deserves better."

The agent seemed to crumble under the weight of Steve's words and stepped aside with his head hung low. As Steve made his way past, he heard the man mumble:

"If he would live for anyone, it would be Captain America."

Steve smiled grimly at the statement. He was counting on exactly that. Once to the elevator, Steve selected the correct floor and prepared himself for the confrontation to come. After he passed the "no signal zone," Steve spoke into the empty space.

"JARVIS?"

The answer was immediate. All hail Stark tech.

"_How may I be of service, sir?"_

Steve could feel the vibration of the AI's posh British voice coming through the cell phone in his pocket. He may have had no idea how to work the endless number of apps or even get the thing do _dial_ but when Stark announced in exacerbation that he could just ask JARIVS, Steve's world had suddenly become simpler, and Tony's blood pressure went down.

The phone in Steve's pocket was his sixth. Numbers 1-5 lay in broken chunks in Stark's lab, retroactively named prototypes. Number six had continuous voice activation, allowing Steve 24/7 access to JARVIS and thus, saving everyone hours of frustration.

"JARVIS, please notify Mr. Stark that I have Agent Coulson and am in need of an extraction from SHEILD Headquarters to a hospital capable of caring for a coma patient."

"_Right away, sir. Mr. Stark has been notified and will be personally overseeing your extraction."_

If an AI was capable of anger, Steve heard it in that sentence. Good. They should be man. They should be furious. This was un-fucking-acceptable.

The elevator dinged and the doors swung open. Steve was met by a bevy of agents of all ranks…just staring at him. Scuttlebutt flies fast on a ship. First among them were Natasha and Clint, their expressions a combination of horror and elation. Steve could only imagine what it must be like for the two Special Agents to find out their handler had been treated with such disregard.

"Stark is on his way. We're getting him _out_ of here."

Both nodded there silent agreement before turning to escort Steve to the door from which Iron Man would make his entrance.

"I'll get the Quinjet. Stark can make sure no one gets in our way on the way to the Tower."

Natasha's voice was quite but clear and she seemed to radiate anger. Clint was silent beside her. How many months had that man carried the guilt of so many deaths? The death of his handler? Steve was once again filled with the rage of this injustice. Coulson's "death" may have brought them together in the moment but it had been tearing the team apart for months.

Clint's guilt was _consuming_ him. Natasha, unable to reach her partner, had withdrawn from everyone, unable to trust them with so little experience from which to draw. Stark had thrown himself into his work, PTSD ravaging his nights while Pepper futily attempted to patch him up during his days. Banner had retreated into himself, unable to find a common ground with the heartbroken team. Not trusting himself not to make it worse. And then there was Steve, too far out of his own time to lead a team that he couldn't even begin to understand.

Coulson was essential to them. He was the glue that would hold this team together. Sure, Steve could lead them in battle but who would hold them all together in peace? Steve's screaming nightmares of ice and fire, the ones that forced him to decline Stark's repeated invitation to move into the newly renovated tower, told him he wasn't in much better shape than anyone else. Coulson was the only way _any_ of them were going to make it.

Stark arrived, all style and swagger. The only indication of his rage was his neglect in removing the Iron Man mask. Eyes of pure light burned, taking in the scene of Steve holding their precious bundle. His head snapped to Natasha, who nodded to the Quinjet.

"I'll plow the road. Let's get the fuck out of here."

Iron Man's tiny voice was music to Steve's ears. And with that, the four Avengers loaded up. Steve wondered at the fact that Fury didn't even try to stop them. He briefly considered the idea that this is what Fury had wanted all along. The notion was too painful to process and so Steve tucked it away for a day when he was feeling stronger, more substantial.

The flight to the Tower was relatively quiet. Only a few times did Stark need to clear their flight with various Air Traffic Controllers. Steve spared a moment to appreciate that, upon hearing who they were and where they were going; none of the ATC's gave them any trouble. One man had even signed off with "Safe Flight Avengers." The well-wish warmed Steve's chilled heart and gave him hope for the future of their team and its purpose.

"I need to sign his cards."

Steve had no idea why he announced that out loud. In his head, it seemed necessary, vital even, but out lout he wondered at his own statement. Stark saved him.

Who'd of thought?

"Damn, right you will Cap. I've got a full set all ready for you. First editions, still in the case."

I'll be…and Steve smiled for the first time since the Battle for Manhattan.

"Thank you, Tony. That's very…heroic of you."

Steve was sure that Tony did not miss the sentiment, as evidenced by his _lack_ of response, an unusual state for the genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist…Avenger. Secretly, Steve was convinced that Avenger was the only title that mattered to Tony. In all honesty, it was the only title that mattered to Steve and he had a sneaking suspicion that it held similar value to Natasha, Clint and Bruce. They were a part of something, broken as it was at the moment. And, now that they had their glue back, they could start to heal.

It wasn't until they landed on the roof of the Tower that Steve realized how tightly he had been holding Coulson. The man was cradled in his arms like a child, face pressed to Steve's neck, arms tucked haphazardly to his torso.

_Beautiful_, Steve thought to himself.

The man was unconscious, deep in his own world and Steve only felt a little bit guilty at ogling. Though he'd dropped weight because of his status, Steve could clearly recall the cut lines of the agent's body, smooth muscle and sinew. As an artist, he could appreciate the fine specimen of manhood that was Phil Coulson and as a man, even one out of his time; he could appreciate the sheer enchantment of the man's soul.

"I've had a room set up for him. Not a hospital room, a regular room. Bruce is more than qualified to care for Agent until he wakes up. Let's get him tucked in."

Steve followed the two agents out of the Quinjet and onto the roof. He was just in time to watch Stark step into the apparatus that removed his Iron Man suit. Tony, for all his boasting and bluster, was truly an incredible inventor. A man ahead of his time as much as Steve was behind. In a strange way the shared a distaste for time; its limitation, judgments and punishing pace.

"We're home" he whispered to Phil, once they were all inside and headed to the agent's assigned room. Tony opened the door to reveal Bruce setting up equipment and arranging medications. The timid man smiled wanly at Steve and nodded his head.

"Well caught, Cap. Well caught."

Steve took the compliment for what it was.

_Never leave a man behind. _

Each of his fellow Avengers nodded at Banner's words and Steve realized that he had earned a substantial measure of trust with his teammates. He had proved that day that he would willfully disregard Fury's orders in order to protect his team. He'd shown each of them that the team was more important than any scheme, any ruse, any secret. That he would chose them, every time...and it was true.

Nothing was more important to Steve than the Avengers.

Phil Coulson was an Avenger, which made him one of the most important people in Steve's world. And, later when he was sitting with Phil and everyone else had gone to bed (or to the lab – Stark), if Steve gently pressed a kiss to Phil's brow he would say it was because Phil is an Avenger. That the intense emotion that stole his breath away when he looked at Phil was the love a man had for his _family_. That the memory of the man's body was from an _artist's_ perspective.

Or maybe…it was more.


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note: **Thank you for all the wonderful reviews, follows and favorites. As, requested, here is your next chapter. Not sure how long this one is going to be yet. It'll probably depend on how well it goes over with you fabulous readers! Onward…

**Finders Keepers: Chapter 2**

Week's had passed with no response from the comatose agent. Steve struggled daily with the knowledge that this might be all that Phil had left. Not a single person in the Avengers Tower had voiced the possibility that the agent might never wake up, but Steve knew they were all thinking it. Part of him hated them for it. What was the use in being surrounded by fucking geniuses when they couldn't save the man that mattered most to hi…all of them?

Steve knew passing judgment like that wasn't fair, which is why he shoved that bubbling, seething resentment deep down when the others were around. They were all exhausted. Between shifts spending time with Phil, Fury sending them on individual missions and the occasional, full-on global attack, they'd barely had a moment's rests since the New York Invasion, a.k.a. _Loki's Giant Fucking Identity Crisis_.

It didn't matter thought; he had time. Steve could wait. He'd been asleep for over 70 years, frozen in the ice and Phil had waited for him. The least he could do was return the favor. He'd adamantly refused any doctor other than Banner access to Phil's room, half terrified that Fury would sneak someone in to carry out the final directive of terminating life support.

Steve had now accumulated no less than 10 sketch books, full of _Phil_. He'd even bought a new book case to add to his bedroom, just for the books full of sketch after sketch of everything Coulson. Sometimes, Steve would spend hours, pages and pencils working just on the eyes. He could never seem to get it right and the longer this went on, the more desperate he became. It was as if he was terrified of forgetting; forgetting what Phil looked like with life, defiance and certainty in his eyes.

Steve wouldn't forget; he _couldn't_. He refused to let this man fade.

It was during one of his evening shifts, while frantically trying to recall the long-fingered grip on a polished Sig, that Steve heard the noise. Gooseflesh rose on his skin and the hair on the back of his neck went up in an instant. His eyes snapped to the pale, prone man in the enormous bed, mind full of mingled hope and fear. All too soon, Steve realized the noise had not come from Phil, but another place within the Tower. The disappointment threatened to drown him until yet another noise ripped at his senses and he snapped to attention.

Steve was gone and Captain America stood tensely in his place.

"JARVIS, report."

"_I believe have an intrud…" _

The AI never finished the sentence and Cap was suddenly filled with rage and fear. Someone was here, and he knew in his bones that they were coming for Phil. JARVIS was offline or compromised which meant he had no way of notifying the rest of the house. No way of getting help…

Cap could hear footsteps coming up down the hallway. Heavy boots impacted with the polished wood floor and he absently noted that the floors must have been waxed recently when he heard a small squeak at the turn of each heel. Sometimes his serum-enhanced senses were just as distracting as they were helpful.

The footsteps paused just outside Phil's room as the intruder seemed to consider his options. Cap could hear his heart own heart pounding a violent cadence against his ribcage. This was not good. He had no shield, no weapon of any kind. Every bit of substantial metal in the room was devoted to keeping Phil alive and the rest of the furniture was too dangerous to employ as a weapon. The item itsenf or even debris could hit the unconscious man, doing fatal damage before Cap could do anything to stop it. _Unacceptable_.

A trade then.

Whoever this was, perhaps they didn't particularly care which Avenger they got. Cap could trade himself for Phil and keep the man safe another day. Stark and the others would figure it out fast enough. Goodness knows the man was probably going _batshit_ trying to figure out what was wrong with JARVIS.

Finally, the doorknob began to turn and Cap held his breath, waiting for the identity of the intruder to be revealed. The door pushed open a bit and then paused again, a voice echoed across the tense space.

"Peace, Captain. I am here to relieve you of a burden, not create another."

That voice…that _voice_!

Cap felt fiery rage snuff out his fear in an instant and he wrenched the door open, taking the intruder by surprise. A powerful hand wrapped around the newcomers throat and he was bodily lifted off the floor. Cap could barely control the strength of his grip. He wanted so badly to squeeze, to end this useless, retched life.

He walked the flailing body down the hallway, supported only by the sheer strength of this enhanced body and that deadly grip on his throat. That voice reached Cap's ears once more begging for release through breathless gasps, only serving to stoke the inferno raging within him.

_Don't you fucking dare speak to me. _

Cap was barely aware of his surroundings and only just registered the crash of glass and wood as he slammed the wriggling intruder down on the coffee table in the common room. Hands were pulling at him but he peeled them off and swatted them away like so many flies.

Finally, a hand was on him; stronger hand, not pulling, not pushing, just resting on his hand; the one holding down the intruder. Strangely, it was this gentle gesture that brought Steve back into himself and he turned narrowed eyes to the one brave enough and wise enough to touch him so.

"Peace Captain." The same words as the intruder but more firm, more substantial, less easy to ignore.

It was in that moment that Steve realized a storm was raging outside the tower. Fitting for his mood but he had the feeling the weather wasn't kneeling to him that night.

"Peace Captain" Thor whispered in that rich, warm drawl. "My brother means no more harm. Peace."

It was then that Steve realized he still held Loki by the throat, pinned to the floor now covered in glass and shards of wood.

"Sorry about the table, Tony."

What an odd thing to comment on.

"Umm," Clearly Stark thought so, as well. "No worries Capsicle. It's replaceable. But the 100 year old bottle of scotch you just threw me into…not so much. I would like an apology about that."

Steve looked up to see that those "flies" he swatted had actually been his teammates, who were now all sprawled around the common room in various stages of recovery. Realizing the damage he'd caused to his friends, Steve abruptly released Loki, and took a hurried step back guilt flooding his mind.

"Oh gosh, I'm so sorry Tony. I didn't realize…"

"I know. It's totally fine really. You were just protecting your man. I get it. A little help up would be nice."

_My man?_

"Sure thing Tony. I'll replace that bottle. I know I probably can't afford it right now but I can pay yo…."

"Cap, seriously? I'm about to get offended here. I really don't care about the bottle. I was just teasing you. You know…to lighten the mood? Whatever. Tough croud."

"Shut up Stark." Clint had clearly recovered from being tossed across the room and was now surveying the scene from a nice, high perch atop one of the bookcases. Steve would bet money there was a ventilation panel above him that he could jump up into at a moment's notice. You had to admire a man that knew his strengths.

"Are we all feeling better now or shall I lie upon this broken glass a bit longer while you all sort it out."

"Loki"

"Shut the fuck up."

"Stay down"

While the first was spoken in quiet admonishment from Thor, the latter two were from Clint and Steve, clearly expressing their opinion regarding the God's comfort, or lack thereof.

"What the heck is he doing here?"

The question was directed at Thor, though Steve's eyes were glued to the prone form below him as if waiting for him to disappear, half hoping and half dreading the occurrence. If he disappeared, would he try to go after Phil again? Would Steve get there in time?

"Bruce, could you go check on Phil, please."

It was not a request and Banner took it as such.

"Sure thing Cap. Not really my scene anyway; a little too tense. Just holler if you need me though. I've got a little present for him, wrapped in green, with his name on it. Just give the word."

Steve couldn't help but smile darkly and nod at the thinly veiled offer. Leave it to Loki to create the only situations in Banner's life in which he would willingly transform. Not something Steve would call a "gift" by any means, but convenient all the same.

"Answer my question. What were you thinking, bringing _him_ here?"

Thor had the grace to look contrite.

"I hadn't realized such a treasure was being kept here, Captain. I thought the Tower would be the more neutral of the two options. I have brought Loki here to begin his sentence rendered by the All Father. He is to make recompense for the damage done to Midgard. We have just arrived from Asgard to…"

"If Loki got community service for that _war_, then he can do it somewhere far away from me…and further away from Phil."

Steve's words were spoken so low his voice was barely more than a growl. Seriously? He murdered hundreds if not thousands of people, rendered half of downtown useless for months, fucked with Clint's head, stabbed Phil and all he gets is community service? Clearly, Asgard is more like Midgard than Steve originally thought.

"The Son of Cole is here? Alive?" Thor's voice was so full of shock and hope that Steve finally took a moment to truly look at the man…God…whatever.

His face was haggard, showing signs of the same exhaustion that was eating away at the rest of them. His blue eyes were dark with profound sadness. Steve would have thought the man was ready to collapse were it not for the small crackle of energy ignited by the knowledge that Phil was alive. Steve viciously stamped down on the strange tightness in his chest that he refused to call jealousy. It didn't matter that Thor had know Coulson first. It _didn't_.

"He's here. In a coma thanks to your _brother_, but alive…"

Thor flinched at the emphasis Steve placed on the kin title but what surprised Steve was that Loki flinched as well.

"I meant no harm, Captain. I had no idea the agent was in that room. I was merely attempting to seek you out. You are the leader of this merry band of misfit toys. I assumed the instructions regarding my sentence would come from you."

Loki barely seemed interested in his own words as if he were expecting to be ignored. The only indication that he was, in fact, being honest was the slightly embarrassed expression on his face when Loki admitted he didn't know Coulson was in the room with Steve. Really now? He didn't _know_?

"Losing your touch?"

It was probably unwise to poke at the crazy guy but Steve really couldn't resist gloating a bit. Not so all-powerful after all.

Stark snorted and Steve could practically feel the smirk on Clint's face.

Loki was about to retort when Thor stepped in. Pity…

"Captain, what is become of the Son of Cole. Fury told us he fell. Those words united us in battle. How is it that he now lives?"

Steve imagined that the look on his face must have been a dark one because Thor's eyes narrowed and a clap of lightening echoed across the New York sky.

"He lied to us."

Thor's teeth ground and thunder rattled the windows. Tony looked between the Thunder God and the raging storm outside and was vaguely impressed. Must be a neat trick to have the weather respond to your moods. Tony was sure he could make something with similar effect; all he had to do was…

"What do you mean, he lied?"

"Just that; he lied. Phil was mortally wounded, that much was true. But, he didn't die. They hid him from us. Fury _lied_ to get us to fight together and they stuck him in a dark room in some marked-off ward of the Hellicarrier hospital and left him there to _die_. I found him about a week before they were going to cut life support and took him out. He's been here ever since. I won't let him be alone anymore. No one deserves to die alone. And there's still a chance he might pull through…"

Thor looked justifiably horrified. Steve could relate. It must go against everything an Asire warrior knew to think a commanding officer would willfully let a soldier die to manipulate the hearts of others. Then again…Steve had been reading up on Norse mythology and Fury and the All Father sounded a little too similar for his tastes. Maybe Thor was more familiar with this kind of dishonor than Steve had first given him credit for.

"I could heal him."

If the room wasn't silent before, it was dead silent the moment Loki made that offer.

"For what price, Prince of Lies."

That was Stark and the sneer in his voice was positively acidic.

"No price. I am here for recompense. It would only be to fulfill to All Father's sentence. Would this not be a good example of what I have been sent here to do?"

The question was innocent enough which immediately put them all on guard. Even Thor glanced suspiciously at Loki, who was now sitting on one of the couches, in repose, as if he ruled the realm instead of owing it an immeasurable debt.

"It is…"

Thor was clearly unsure of what to do, as were the rest.

Steve, once again, decided.

"Fine, heal him. Banner will monitor. Put one toe out of line and I'll give him the go ahead to Hulk out and use your 'puny' God behind as a soccer ball."

Loki visibly shivered at the idea of being exposed to the Hulk again.

"Very well. No need for threats, Captain. My intensions are pure."

"Impossible. But your actions will be. Move it."

Loki only raised an eyebrow before raising himself off the couch and proceeded down the hallway toward Phil's room once more. Steve was following closely behind with the rest of the Avengers taking up the rear.

"Tony, what's wrong with JARVIS."

"Oh, he's fine now. The Bifrost dropped the wonder twins right on the roof. Shorted out some of the relays and they took a while to reroute. Now that we know what that's like, I'll have some systems in place by the end of the week so it won't happen again. It sucked too, JARVIS was making me coffee when it happened. It's not like I know how to actually work the coffee machine on my own so I didn't even…

"Tony, shut up."

Clint certainly had a way with words. By the time Stark's rant had been interrupted, they had all positioned themselves around Phil's bed with Steve next to Loki, who had taken a seat atop the duvet and was leaning over Coulson's body.

Steve resisted the urge to get his shield and prepared himself instead to bodily throw Loki out the window, just as he had with Tony, if he made one move in the wrong direction. Hulk could follow him down and finish the job. He was pretty sure that, just this once, Tony wouldn't even complain about the property damage.

"Well, now that we're all gathered 'round for the show. Shall I begin?"

Steve nodded quickly while thinking to himself: _There's not a God in this universe that can help you if you fuck this up._ Judging by the wary look in Loki's eyes just before he turned his attention completely to Phil, he knew it too.


	3. Chapter 3

Thank you lovely and loyal readers. Here is the next installment. Enjoy!

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**Finders Keepers: Chapter 3**

Steve wasn't sure what he expected when Loki went to work on "Agent," as Stark liked to call him, but it sure wasn't this.

Loki had gone deathly still upon initiating whatever "ritual" he planned to use to heal Coulson. The room seemed to shrink for a moment before the air rippled with energy. Phil's chest began to glow, first with a sickly pallor that sent Steve's heart racing and then the light began to transform. The intensity quickly became too much for anyone but Loki to look at directly and Steve couldn't help but turn his head away from the otherworldly glare.

Steve was at least intellectually aware that the light was emanating from the now-healed scar that decorated the agent's chest. However, the sense of danger ringing through his veins and sending his hair on end made little sense to the super soldier.

"Umm, is this creeping out anyone else?"

Bless you Tony Stark.

"Silence! He's been gone too long. A distraction may cost him his life."

Loki's voice was quiet but clear and Steve was inclined to obey, for now.

"Fuck you Reindeer Games. You're the reason he's in this bed. Lose him and I will personally turn you into a lawn decoration for my Malibu house. Pepper will be thrilled that I finally brought home a real antique."

Clint punched Tony in the shoulder in a half hearted reprimand but his efforts were ruined by the smirk on his face.

"You know you love it, Katniss."

"Stark. Shut the fuck up."

The room was silent once again with Natasha's order and Steve wondered for a moment why he wasn't the one to demand order. The answer came to him just as quickly as the question.

They were acting like a team. Clint and Tony were practically twins with their mischief-making and banter, Natasha had become the patient but stern older sister, Banner the wise older brother. Steve supposed that would make him the Dad in the mix which didn't bother him as much as it should have. He may have been 70 plus years on ice but in his mind he was still barely half way through his 20's.

Loki reached out a hand to touch Phil's chest, snapping Steve's attention back to the ritual and making him itch once again for his shield. Despite his bravado, it would crush him like no block of ice ever could if the lost Phil because of Steve's decision to trust Loki with the man's life, such as it was.

The God of Mischief began chanting quietly. It was a beautiful, lyrical language that made Steve think of the elvish language in Lord of the Rings. He allowed himself a moment to be proud that he could make such a connection with modern culture at all.

"Brother," Thor whispered. "Is this wise? You speak the words of an ancient language that resists control as the winds resist a master. Is there no other way?"

"Silence! Truly, do you all wish him to perish? I need old words for old magic and I will explain no more."

Loki's irritation was clear and Thor's doubt opened the door for all of them to wonder what they'd agreed to. The light began to intensify as Loki's words became more earnest. Steve's sense of unease grew as the light began to take on a familiar glow.

"Fuck me," Clint gasped. "The Tesseract."

Terror ripped through the room as they realized just what Loki was doing. There must have been a residue of energy from the Tesseract when Loki stabbed Coulson in the chest with the scepter. The God of Lies was now using that energy, but for what no one was really sure. Would Loki really use the energy to heal Phil? The idea seemed ludicrous when considering the magic wielder. Still, what else could he do with it?

And that was the question that had everyone, including Thor, holding their breath in dreaded anticipation.

Phil's body began to take on the same glow of the blue light and as Loki raised his hands, drawing out the energy, Phil's body seemed to follow, arching up from the bed. His face was still slack, belaying no conscious awareness of what was happening to him. Still, he bent at that unnatural angle as if there were a string attached to his chest from where Loki was drawing out the power of the Tesseract.

All too soon, as if the string had been cut, Phil's body dropped back down to the bed without a sound. Loki remained seated above him, gazing into the blue orb of light. He seemed to hesitate for a moment, turning his eyes away from the sphere and toward Thor with an unspoken question in his eyes.

Just as quickly, he seemed to come to a decision and reached his right hand out toward Coulson once more, and resting a long-fingered pale hand on the agent's brow. Ancient words began flowing from his lips once more and, as his cadence quickened color began to flow back into Phil's gray-toned skin. The monitors began beeping and squawking in reaction to the patient's change in status and Banner jumped into action, evaluating read outs, making chart notes and mumbling calculations under his breath.

Finally, the words they'd all been waiting for…

"He's waking up."

Just as Banner delivered the news, Phil's eyes snapped open, crystal clear and focused directly on Loki. The agent's hand reached down, as if to grab at his ever-present sidearm. His face betrayed nothing when he found the holster missing but the heart rate monitor gave away his true feelings on seeing Loki so close to him.

"Didn't I shoot you with a giant gun?"

Phil's voice was gravely from misuse and it might have been the most beautiful sound Steve had ever heard.

"Unless you need to do anything else to heal Phil, I suggest you move away from the bed…Now."

Steve was gone and Captain America stood in his place, all business and with a clear mission firmly branded in his mind: Protect Phil Coulson at all costs.

Loki glanced back at his audience and the lazy satisfaction in his eyes made Cap want to punch him in the throat.

"Thor, please remove your brother from the room. He's done now."

"Of course. Loki let us retire in the common area. My comrades would prefer a moment to celebrate your success in healing the Son of Cole.

"Oh, yes. Of course, _brother_," Loki hissed, a manic gleam overtaking his previously clear eyes.

Had Cap not been so close, he might not have noticed the physical changes in the sorcerer. Those electric green eyes fogged over, before taking on a distinctly blue hue. Cap might have thought it was a reflecting from the glowing orb if he had not seen Loki's green eyes transform before his eyes.

"Thor, the Tesser…"

Too late.

Loki stood quickly from his seat on the bed, backing away from the group with a smile that would put a shark to shame. Just as Cap was about to complete his warning, the God of Mischief summoned another ball of energy and hurled it at Thor, knocking the thunderer back into the wall, through it and into the next room.

Cap jumped towards Phil, landing on the bed and covering the newly awakened man with his body in case Loki brought the ceiling down. Shouts and then gun fire echoed around him and Cap knew his team was doing everything in their power to protect the agent.

Eventually the chaos calmed, Loki was clearly gone along with the collected Tesseract energy and Phil's room was in ruins. Cap began to recede and Steve was left in his place blushing with embarrassment over his position on the bed. Just as he was about to apologize for his clearly overzealous move to shield the prone man, he heard Stark shout.

"Stay right there, Cap. We'll get that chunk of wall off you in no time."

So, apparently is flying leap to Phil's bed had practical purposes after all. That saved him from having to explain his impulses…for now.

Steve looked down for the first time, allowing his eyes to adjust to the dim light and Phil's face came into focus. The agent was staring at him, face as calm as ever and Steve realized that Phil had actually gripped his biceps at some point during the chaos. Coulson's glittering blue eyes were fixed on Steve's, curiosity plain to see and smile slowly growing on his thin lips.

"Captain," the man whispered, voice still gruff from disuse. But Cap was long gone, along with all possibility of composure, apparently.

"Phil," Steve whispered back, breathless with the rush of gratitude and relief that threatened to render him dizzy. "Uh, I mean, well…Welcome back?"

A grin finally broke free and Phil let out a quiet chuckle.

"Is that a question?"

"What? Why, no! Welcome back...really. I was…we, _we_ were worried."

Phil's callused hands slid up Steve's biceps for a moment before traveling back down and making the small jump to the super soldier's sides.

"Aren't people typically naked in this position?"

The blush that rushed across Steve's cheeks was hot enough to heat the space between the two men. He ducked his head for a second before realizing how close the motion put his mouth to Phil's. Despite the impulse to pull his head back up, Steve couldn't help but appreciate the stale breath ghosting across his lips, quick and shallow but real…alive…awake. The wonder of the moment overtook him and Steve leaned down the rest of the way, pressing his lips ever-so-gently to the lips of the agent below him.

Coulson was still for a second or two before tilting up his chin and returning the dry, chaste and utterly reverent kiss. Just as Steve pulled away and the two shocked men opened their eyes, Ironman lifted the large chunk of sheet rock from Steve's back and tossed it to the side, effectively destroying their cocoon of privacy.

Steve made quick work of getting up off the bed and moving all the way to the other side of the now destroyed room. He wouldn't dare look Phil in the eye and was infinitely grateful that the team began fussing over the newly awakened handler, effectively preventing the man from calling Steve out on his impulsive behavior.

_Get your head in the game, Rogers. What kind of man are you? Kissing him like that? He's been in a coma for months and the first thing you do is assault him. You're a real class act, buddy. _

Steve snuck out of the room and into the common area. There was a, presumably, Thor-shaped hole in Stark's balcony window from where the Thunder God had exited to chase after his brother. Steve wished, and not for the first time, that the House of Odin would keep their family drama to their own _realm_.

He took a steadying breath before asking JARIVS to place a call to Fury so he could report in.

"Captain. Are we on speaking terms now?"

The sarcasm was not appreciated.

"Director Fury, we have had contact with the alien known as Loki. He arrived at the Avengers Tower approximately 30 minutes ago and healed Agent Coulson. He appeared to have harvested some kind of residual energy from the Tesseract during the ritual and made off with it after completing the process. He did some serious damage to the agent's room but there were no casualties."

"So, that wily fucker actually managed to draw out the energy?"

Rage boiled in Steve's veins in an instant.

"You knew…Of course you knew. You know everything but apparently you are incapable or unwilling to exact any good from what you know."

"Yes, we knew but we didn't know how to get it out. It was obvious after a few days that the energy from the Tesseract was both keeping Agent Coulson alive and keeping him in a coma. We'd just made the decision to let him off life support when you kidnapped him."

"I know that. I read it in the file. But, here's what I'm betting. I'm betting that taking Phil off life support didn't have anything to do with his supposed quality of life. I think you were going to let him die to see if you could harvest the Tesseract energy from his dead body and use it to continue your research on 'Plan B."

"You don't have much faith in me, do you Cap?"

"No we do not."

That was Stark. Barton was following juts behind him with Phil propped up between him and Natasha.

"I have to agree with Capsicle here. I think you'd sink us all if you thought it'd give you an edge. I think it's safe to say that the Avengers Initiative is no longer under the jurisdiction of SHIELD or the WSC. If you want to talk to us, like ever, have your people call my people. And by people I mean Pepper, who fucking hates you, by the way. So, good luck with that Eye Patch. Now get off my fucking screen. You're visage is ruining my decor."

The Director made no more effort to argue and promptly shut down the link, not even taking a moment to welcome Phil back the waking world. Steve's chest tightened in anger once more. Did Fury really care so little for the other man's life? While would Phil have worked for a man who didn't seem to give two shits for the people that worked for him. Why did Fury warrant such loyalty?

"It's not as bad as it sounds, Steve."

Phil's voice was full of concern and warmth, pulling Steve's attention from the now blank screen and to the couch that Barton and Natasha had settled him on.

"It sounds like he doesn't deserve the loyalty of the men that serve him. It sounds like he'd rather let you die to advance his mission than take a risk to bring you back. It sounds like he's willing to lie to us whenever he wants in order to manipulate us into doing what he wants and feels no remorse for the fallout."

"Okay, so maybe it is what it sounds like. Just remember. Director Fury is personally responsible for the safety of an entire planet. He's just found out that we are hilariously outgunned and in his mind, one man's life does not hold precedence over those lives he protects."

"Phil…you are one of those lives. He shouldn't get to decide who lives and who dies. You're life isn't worth less just because you work for SHIELD. You don't deserve to be thrown away."

Steve's voice was intense and full of all the passion, frustration and fury that he'd been holding on to since finding Phil in that obscure hospital room.

"Maybe he didn't think there was any other way."

"Maybe he didn't look hard enough! He lied to us, Phil. He told us you were dead. We _believed_ him. We _mourned_ you. Not having you here was destroying all of us. What could he have possibly gained from letting you go? A gun that didn't do more than singe Loki's eyebrows? Seems to me that Fury was trashing the only defense this planet has. The Avengers work, but we weren't making it without you, Phil. I wasn't enough. None of us were okay without you. Without you, we wouldn't have made it two more months as a team."

There it was; the proverbial elephant in the room. The secret they'd all been thinking and no one was willing to say it out loud. They needed Phil, needed him to hold the team together. His death may have brought them together in one battle, but that trick only works once.

Phil looked around the room in contemplation and only shook his head when none of them would meet his eyes. _How could this be true?_

"I'd just like to point out that I'm the only one in her without some kind of superpower or incredible talent."

"Uh, I call bullshit. You're superpower is working with us. We've gone through 5 handlers and 4 'ambassadors' since you went down. Seriously, Cap even made one of the guys cry. It's you Phil. You're the magic touch here. You're what makes this psycho-circus work."

The quiet laughter finally broke the tension in the room. Unfortunately, the blaring alarm calling the Avengers to action interrupted their bonding moment.

"Suit Up!" Stark called out.

Steve took off for his room after sparing a worried glance at the vulnerable agent seated in their living room.

"Give me a gun and a couple of clips. I'll be fine."

Natasha tossed him the requested weaponry and Coulson caught it with nimble fingers. Apparently, some skills aren't about muscle.

Moments later, they were suited up and ready to go, Hulk's roar a soundtrack in the background.

"Come back to me, Cap. You owe me another kiss."

Steve's blush intensified at Barton's catcall.

"You go Cap!" - Barton

"Tap dat, Agent!" - Stark

"Shut the fuck up and get your asses in the jet." - Widow.

But, just as Steve passed the couch in the way out to the landing pad, he couldn't help but whisper just loud enough so Phil could hear (and Phil alone):

"As you wish…"


End file.
